Cr42y C0nf1n3m3nt 1n54n1ty
by solaesce
Summary: Once he lived his ordinary life. Then he was confined into a white room of nothing but three walls of white and one glass screen that showed what he missed. Later insanity will devour his mind if he does not escape. Perhaps he won't. Warning: Insanity
1. Prologue

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When Niou was young, he lived for the present, reveling in what was happening in the _now._

He never spared a thought for the future, never prepared, and never wondered about what he might have become.

He never thought about how he may be punished for what he didn't do. Never wondered about how he would be able to deal with living in an empty room, watching the lives of others.

He never wondered if he would be able to keep his mind sane and intact, if such a thing were to ever happen to him.

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	2. Chapter 1: Nostalgia

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Kirihara Akaya stared at the TV set from the store window perplexedly, shaking his head as a sense of nostalgia and acute sorrow overcame him.

"Bakaya?" Marui walked over, blowing his trademark apple bubblegum. "Whatcha looking at?"

Akaya shook his head, looking confused. "No-nothing. I just – I dunno. It's nothing, Marui-sempai. Let's go; we're behind."

With that, he pulled on the shorter (and older) boy behind him, running after the rest of their team.

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	3. Chapter 2: Out of Reach

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He stared mournfully at their backs as they ran off, shaking his head in disbelief.

Damn Marui! Damn him, damn him, _damn him_

"Damn you!" he screamed, his voice cracking as his yell of vehemence changed into a hollow wail. "Damn you, don't leave me here. _Don't leave me here_!"

He slid to his knees, his hands clenched into fists, as fits of sobbing overcame him. "God… How could you _do _this to me, Marui? Damn you, Marui. He almost _remembered _me, _goddamnit_."

He stared through the glass-like screen, watching all of the humans walking around the street with a deadly hunger, pressing his body against the screen agitatedly, wanting – no, _needing_, to feel the warmth of the sun, to be like the other humans again, to need to eat, to sleep, to _talk_ to someone, anyone, other than himself.

He curled up, hugging tightly, shuddering. God, couldn't they stop torturing him? Wasn't imprisoning him good enough?

_Did they have to dangle what he wanted just barely out of his reach?_

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	4. Chapter 3: Someone

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Yukimura Seiichi flicked through the TV channels restlessly, feeling abnormally unsettled.

Why he have the oddest feeling that he was missing something?

He sighed, reaching for the remote to shut the television, before stopping, and kept it on, on a sudden whim.

Reaching over to check the tennis team's order for the match tomorrow, again, he frowned.

_Doubles 2: Marui Bunta, Kuwahara Jackal_

_Doubles 1: Yukimura Seiichi, Yanagi Renji_

_Singles 3: Yagyuu Hiroshi_

_Singles 2: Kirihara Akaya_

_Singles 1: Sanada Geniichiro_

He sighed again, a feeling of unsettlement going over him.

Since when did he play _doubles_? Logically, it made sense, since only he and Renji, and Bunta and Jackal had any doubles sense whatsoever, but…he could have _sworn_ that he once played _singles…_

There must have been _someone_, who played doubles, other than them four…right? After all, someone must have filled in his space when he was hospitalized.

He closed his eyes, frowning as a blurry image of a guy with white hair passed through his mind, before it faded away as he fell into a deep slumber.

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	5. Chapter 4: Shuddering Laughter

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He shook with anger.

He was _so close_, so close to being _remembered _again.

God. What had he _done_ to _deserve_ this?

_Nothing_. He didn't do_ anything. _

_Had _he? Maybe, maybe, _maybe_, he had, but he would _remember_ doing it, wouldn't he?

_Wouldn't_ he? He thought he did, but he wasn't sure, not anymore, not when everything in his memories had almost, almost faded away, like old, yellowed photographs, faded and not-quite-there, everything blurry and hard-to-make-out.

He laughed hysterically, shaking, and his voice echoed and echoed and echoed around the room until he could hear nothing but shuddering laughter, strangely sinister and sorrowful and strained and lacking a certain sanity.

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	6. Chapter 5: Forgotten Diaries

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"Bunta-chan!" his mother's cheerful voice floated up the stairs. "What are you doing? It's so late!"

"I'm looking for my journal, 'kaa-san!" he yelled back. "Have you seen it?"

"You don't have a journal," she said bewilderedly from his doorway.

"Yeah, I do, 'kaa-san," he said, looking at her weirdly. "The one that 'Ha – wait a sec. No one's ever given me a journal before…"

"Exactly," his mother beamed, before pouting slightly. "You gave the cute one that I gave you to Mari-chan."

"Imouto…?" he said, frowning bewilderedly. "Oh. I see. Um, thanks, 'kaa-san."

With that, he wandered out of his room, looking dazedly, with his mother staring at her oldest son with puzzlement.

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	7. Chapter 6: Existence

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Niou watched and watched and watched him, staring at the motionless figure with an intense hunger.

He wanted day to come, he wanted it to _come now_.

Even if they didn't know he was there, even if they didn't see _him_, they were still watching the screen he was 'in,' where _he was_, and he _needed _to know that _he still existed._

"Wake up, Maru-chan," he said in a sing-song voice. "Wake up, wake up, _wake up…"_

His voice trailed away, and he stared helplessly as his once best friend slept through his pleads, unable to hear him.

Suddenly, he stirred, and Niou waited, utterly motionless, waited and waited and waited, but after an agonizing moment, Marui stilled, and slept on.

He sobbed with self pity.

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Right. The 7th chapter, and my first author's note. Sorry, sorry, to the people who are reading anyways…

Um… dedicated to Envie the Otaku, who was the first (and only ) person to review. Thanks!

A bunch of things…

I know that the l33t title puts people off, but it seemed to match….so….yeah.

The chapters are so short, it's ridiculous… but I can't write long chapters, at all, so I'm trying to write things that I _can_ write, so…yeah.

Translations:

Imouto: younger sister

'kaa-san: short for okaa-san, which means mother

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